Snow talks, and has 3 distinct dialects. Trudging through it above 25 degrees it merely whispers. From 25 down to zero it begins to crunch, the lower the louder. At zero down to -50 it squeaks. Below -50 you begin to squeak, and better get back inside ASAP! 😊
Today I bid farewell to October enjoying a loud ‘crunch’ hike. Following a snow-machine track 3 miles up into the mountains, I eventually broke trail to trudge on to a higher vantage point.
There’s an indescribable, delicate beauty in the silence of a snow laden forest. My trudging ceased . . . I ‘listened’ in awe. Here’s a few pics of my ‘snow talk’ wander, and the exquisite silence I ‘heard’.
Currently the thermometer is registering 5 degrees and headed for zero. Hopefully I’ll be able to ‘squeak’ out another hike tomorrow 😊.
As October winds down it’s getting easier to determine the temperature . . . 5 degrees . . . I only need one hand to count on now 😊. Perfect day for a hike in the Last Frontier’s invigorating crisp, pure air.
Here’s a couple exquisite scenes He decorated this ‘cool’, single digit corner of creation with today. Hopefully, someday you’ll be able to experience it first-hand . . . just remember to pack your mittens and long-johns 😊.
“The breath of God produces ice, and the broad waters become frozen.”
Hope this finds you healthy, happy, and enjoying all the good that still exists in this tumultuous world during these uncertain times. + ^ Keep Looking Up
Ice fog is a Greatland wintertime phenomenon that occurs when minute ice crystals are suspended in the air. It requires ‘cool’ temps, and with the thermometer registering 27 we qualified 😊. Tinged with a sunset’s hues generates creationscapes that defy description. Such was the ethereal exhibition we enjoyed a front row seat at this evening.
The heavens declare the glory of God; the skies proclaim the work of His hands. – Psalm 19:1 We R Blessed . . . May U B 2
A crisp, 20-degree dawn revealed a fresh blanket of snow, beckoning from the blazing hearth to wander the pristine winter-wonderland awaiting outside.
A final Sockeye salmon run spawned, muted beneath frigid waters’ skim ice as it slowly morphed into shimmering crystal designs along Matanuska River’s rocky shores. Surrounded by the Chugach Range’s brilliant white towering cathedrals, I stood in awe . . . eye candy for the soul!
“God’s breath sends the ice, freezing wide expanses of water”. – Job 37:10
Falling snow has replaced falling leaves in the Last Frontier. Up in the mountains yesterday ‘termination dust’, the mystical white line drawn across the mountains by winter’s first noticeable snowfall, marked the 5,000 ft. level . . . soon time to hang up my hiking shoes and fasten on the snowshoes
“He sends the snow like white wool, and scatters the frost like ashes”. – Ps.147:16